


it's hard to love you (but i do my best anyway, darling)

by primrosee



Series: welcome to earth c [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Sburb, a smol and his tols, it's a bit john-centric, john is smol and dave and tz are tol, kind of john's inner-monologue i suppose?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 05:10:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11433816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primrosee/pseuds/primrosee
Summary: Your friends are not the same people they used to be.[post-sburb. earth c.]





	it's hard to love you (but i do my best anyway, darling)

**Author's Note:**

> so i was showering and thinking of ideas and suddenly i was like "BUT WHAT IF JOHN/DAVE/TZ"  
> here's the product of it
> 
> ALSO!!! the whole "john thinks everyone is different" idea actually comes from this johnroxy fic i read?? not sure where it is but thanks for making me remember that they'd technically be different (i think) author of that fic

All of your friends are not the same people they used to be.

They look the same, act the same, talk the same. They have the same names and they still call you their friendleader, still treat you like their best friend, still act like they did—before the doomed timeline, before they all died in heroic and just ways, before you lost them all and went on a “heroic” quest to save them, or at least pieces of them. A quest you were sent on by a teal-blooded bleeding alien girl with a red scarf that had directions written out on it in her blood, directions for what you needed to do for everything to go back to normal. It didn’t work.

Rose is still cool and calculating. Jade is still kindhearted and bubbly. Dave is still—well, Dave; you can’t really describe him in words. But none of them are the same, because every time one of them smiles at you, says, “Hey, John,” there’s just something off about them. Like a song that’s a note off, a piano that’s out of tune.

You can’t talk to anyone about it. No one sees what you see, no one feels the same bouts of discomfort you do when they smile and act their parts, like they’re starring in some big film production that’s supposed to fool you into believing that they’re still the same people they were before the game, during the game. But they aren’t. Terezi confronts you about it. “Why do you act so weird around everyone?” She asks, bluntly, frowning at you.

“I don’t,” you respond, an obvious lie. She knows it. She may not be able to see, but she can sense, and she did always want to be a lawyer—or whatever the troll equivalent of that is. She can sniff out your lies like a police dog. “They aren’t the same.” and you deflate like a balloon, like the weak thirteen-year-old you’re always going to be.

She nods thoughtfully, smiles with those sharp teeth of hers. “I understand what you mean,” she says. It’s so much easier to speak with her in person, without her leetspeak giving you a migraine. “They died. We didn’t. You saved them and we all got plopped into a timeline where we were successful, but they just aren’t the same people you once knew. Is that what’s been bugging you, Egbert?”

“I guess.”

She outstretches her arms to you. For a hug? You stay glued to the spot for a moment before she finally speaks up. “Well, aren’t you going to hug me? That’s a human form of affection, right?”

You nod even though she can’t see you, hesitantly step into her arms. The trolls are all so big, so tall and so...just—big. It’s hard to explain. They take up a lot of room. You imagine they’d need a king size bed for just one of them, if beds were their thing. Coupled with the fact that you’re so incredibly short and thin, it’s an odd contrast. “You’ll be alright, John Egbert. They’re not the same, but you’ll get used to ‘em. They aren’t that different.”

You know she doesn’t mean it, but you nod into her chest like you agree.

 

* * *

 

It doesn’t take long before you and Terezi settle into something akin to a relationship. She kisses you a lot, and it’s kind of painful with those sharp teeth of hers, almost like you’re making out with a shark. But something about her cold lips pressed to hers and your blood on her lips comforts you, makes it easier to deal with these imposters in your friend’s bodies. She hugs you a lot, too. She likes to ruffle your hair, likes to pick through it like she’s checking for bugs, but you can’t say you mind. You suppose you and her are in the “red” quadrant, but she tells you she isn’t sure she can put a label on it. She doesn’t pity you, but she doesn’t hate you.

You tell her it’s love. She tells you that love doesn’t exist to her. It doesn’t really exist to you either; you just want a word to put to it.

Dave takes notice first, which is weird, because you kind of expected Rose would’ve. Being the Seer of Light and all, you thought knowing was kind of her department. But Dave is the first to notice, the first to confront you in the hallway about it. You feel cornered even though it’s a big hallway and you’re in the middle of it, but you shrink beneath his gaze. His stone-cold demeanor crumbles, his face softens. He touches your arm. You jerk away. “You aren’t Dave,” you blurt out in a heated rush. “Dave is dead. He died in a doomed timeline. You aren’t him.”

He draws his hand back. You shrink further, afraid he may hit you. But he doesn’t—because he may not be the same, but he’s a close replica. “I don’t know what you mean,” he replies, and you shake your head because you knew he wouldn’t. No one does. No one but Terezi. “I’m still me, dude. Still the same Dave Strider you met on the internet.”

“You aren’t.”

He tilts his head like a confused bird. Dave kind of looks like a bird. His nose is pointed, he’s all sharp angles. He’s almost as tall as Terezi is, and he’s thin, but strong. You think that some part of you may love him, but he isn’t the same. And even if he were, he’s still your best bro. He’s still Dave—he’s your best bro, the Knight to your Heir, and you couldn’t—wouldn’t—

He kisses you.

It’s soft and hesitant. That’s the first thing you notice, because it surprises you. It doesn’t match who Dave is. You’d thought it would have been hard, rough. But it’s careful, gentle, like he’s afraid of it—of you. When he goes to pull away, you pull him back by his neck. You aren’t sure when you start crying, but you take notice when a choked sob forces its way out of your throat. He holds you, shushes you, and you laugh because it’s all too much.

You fall to pieces in Dave Strider’s arms, but he isn’t the same.

 

* * *

 

You tell Terezi that Dave kissed you. She cackles and tells you that he can join in on the action if he really wants to, but she goes silent and serious when you shift awkwardly, like she can sense your tension. “Is there something wrong with him kissing you?”

“Not really?” you say. Lying through your teeth. Terezi notices immediately, but doesn’t catch you on it. Doesn’t press you to go further. It’s why you love her so much. “I mean. He’s my best bro, y’know? And he still isn’t the same Dave—he isn’t himself, and I just. I’m so confused.”

Terezi nods thoughtfully, politely. Like she always does when she’s listening closely to something. Or maybe it’s only when she’s listening closely to you. She reaches her hand out expectantly, and you grab it. As you should; as you’re expected to, just as she knew you would. It’s like you’re hardwired to grab her hand when she reaches for yours. “You know, Dave has died a ton. He’s never really a different dude. He’s always the same, there are just a lot of different versions of him mulling around, bugging the hell out of everyone. Strider stuff. This Dave isn’t your original Dave, sure, but neither was the other one.”

You shift. Squeeze Terezi’s hand hard enough that all of the teal blood comes rushing to her fingertips. She doesn’t really seem to mind. You wonder if there is anything that can really hurt trolls. “So you’re saying to give him a shot?”

Terezi rubs her chin like she’s in deep thought. It makes you giggle, which makes her smile. You’ve grown fond of her shark-toothed grin. “I guess I am.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Dave Strider,” you announce proudly, throwing Dave’s door open with so much force that it bangs against the wall in his bedroom and startles him out of whatever it is he’s doing at his laptop. “I have decided to grant you one shot with me. Terms and conditions: Terezi Pyrope. We have a thing. She gives her blessing.”

He smiles. It’s something odd and out of place on his face—you’re so used to the usual Strider smirk, or the stone-cold, tight-lipped frowns. But a real smile, like the one he’s giving you, is something you aren’t used to. It registers to you that this isn’t Dave, but you aren’t sure how much you mind it. “So you’re a maiden already wed, but you want a side-chick.”

You shake your head. “No. You have been permitted to join the festivities, Mr.Strider. You can be part of the totally-cool really exclusive Terezi Pyrope and John Egbert group, or you can be a party pooper and shred your golden ticket. It’s your choice, but shredding the golden ticket isn’t the right one.”

“Is that a Willy Wonka reference?”

“Maybe.”

He nods once, firmly. And then he kisses you.

 

* * *

 

It’s kind of weird, having two people to love instead of one. You wish you could all sleep together in one bed, but if you try, Terezi has horrendous nightmares. The first time you tried, she tore all of the bedsheets and you and Dave had to spend three hours alchemizing new ones. So, with the help of Karkat, she moves her recuperacoon into the room you and Dave share, right next to the bed. You don’t sleep very much, anyway. You lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, wrapped up tightly in Dave’s arms, balled in on yourself so far that you almost disappear.

Sometimes, you wish it would work. Other times, you don’t. Sometimes you want to get sleep, but you know that you can only sleep for hours at a time. Nightmares plague you whenever you fall asleep, even for naps. When you wake up, sobbing openly, brokenly, there’s always a hand there for you, a set of arms wrapped around you. If it isn’t Dave, it’s Terezi, and if it isn’t Terezi, it’s Dave. Sometimes it’s both. Those times are your favorite times, when you lay between the two of them (it makes you feel incredibly small, but you enjoy the feeling) and they pamper you.

Dave tells you that you’ll be a pillow princess in bed. He follows it up with, “Speaking of that, how are we supposed to do the diddle?”

Terezi breaks out into harsh laughter, almost like a dog barking. You smack Dave’s arm, but you’re holding back giggles of your own. But you think on it, about it, and come to the same question—how exactly are you guys supposed to do...it?

Terezi probably has weird alien biology, and you and Dave are both guys. It’ll be weird, no doubt, but Terezi assures the both of you, “When the time comes, we shall diddle each other’s widdles into the night in the most exceptional way possible.”

You break into uncontrollable giggles. You roll over onto your stomach and kick your feet. Dave lets out a few chuckles of his own, his hands on your back. Terezi shouts, “Cuddle puddle!” and launches herself into the bed. You roll over on your side, facing Dave. He smiles at you, one of those rare, real smiles. “I love you,” he says, and the face he makes afterward is nothing short of hilarious. He looks shocked at his words, because it’s the first time any of you have dropped the ‘L’ bomb. “Shit.” he follows up with, ever the master of words.

You giggle some more, but pat his head and respond, “I love you, too, doofus.”

Terezi pulls you against her chest, and of course, adds in her own two cents. “I love both of you, I think. That’s the weird human thing where you don’t pity or hate people? You just do. The. Do?”

You start laughing harder. “I love you too, Terezi. It’s totally where you do the do.”

You fall asleep in Terezi’s arms, your face pressed to Dave’s chest, curled into a tight ball. Sometimes you want to curl so tightly you disappear, but this is not one of those times.

**Author's Note:**

> TO BE CONTINUED????? (yeah prob)  
> tune back in when two gay boys and an alien babe try to do the diddly
> 
> also: i deleted my choose your own adventure fic cause i wasn't pleased with it, but @ the person who left the really nice comment about loving my writing and it being poetic n stuff; ty so much god bless ur soul okokok<3 i want to write you something pls comment on this  
> you asked why i had two accounts also and it's because! i have really bad anxiety so i like to separate things bc it makes me feel better to have order, so this account is for oneshots and the other is for multi-chap fics
> 
> thank you for reading everyone who did!!!! <3 <3


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